The Hero in Her Heart
by Daughter of Krypton
Summary: Booth is dead and Brennan left to live her life without her hero. Begins after "The Wannabe in the Weeds" (may have a happy ending ;) )
1. 1: An End

Chapter One

"Seeley, I'm doing this for us," the large, blonde Pam shouted. Her words were partially lost under Brennan's singing, though Booth heard, the words leaving a horrid knotting feeling in his stomach. Brennan was still dancing joyously, belting out 'Girls Just Want to Have Fun' when Pam reached for the gun.

Pam was outraged. Seeley was looking at another woman- a skinny woman- instead of her. He was supposed to love her now that her precious Tommy was gone. _Tommy… _she sang the name in her head, _but why dwell on old flames? _

Pam knew what to do to make Seeley notice her.

Booth tore his eyes from Brennan, who was finally enjoying frivolity. At the sight of the gun aimed at his partner, he leapt out of his seat and into the bullet's path.

His chest burned around the wound. Soon though, it was slightly relieved by his spilling blood. Screams echoed throughout the club. The piano came to an abrupt stop as the pianist ran from the threat of the slightly large, totally insane woman wielding the gun.

Booth collapsed, knees buckling, onto the steps leading up to the stage. The stairs drove into his back, but he was numb to nearly everything.

Brennan fell to her knees beside him. Pam glared dangerously at her, her anger misdirected. Pam blamed Brennan for Booth taking the bullet. She took aim once more. Brennan shot off a round from Booth's gun before Pam could pull the trigger again. Blood leaked out a wound in Pam's neck, and she fell to the ground.

Brennan's hands flew instinctively to the hole in Booth's chest. She applied pressure like she knew she should. His blood seeped through her fingers, staining her hands. Under her palms she felt his heart beating. Faster… slower… wrong. She held him to her chest.

She was screaming now, crying out to him as he faded away, pleading silently with a god she didn't believe in. "Booth! No, Booth, c'mon!" she begged him to stay, though he barely heard. Booth's senses were leaving him as his heart struggled to maintain life. He was only slightly aware of Brennan, Bones, calling to him, trying to pull him back from the cliff in the distance. It would be so easy just to jump, and leave the burning, blinding ache in his chest behind in the mortal word. He could fly with the angels... He could meet God... He could talk to Jesus… If he only went over the horizon…

Brennan held him to the world he knew. Through the black spots clouding his vision, he thought he saw a tear roll down her face. That single drop of salt water and emotion gave him purpose to fight, if only for a little longer. He threw his energy into putting his hand on her wrist while she pressed steadily on the bleeding.

"Booth!"

Sirens blared outside.

She couldn't feel a pulse. His eyes looked blank

"No…Booth…."


	2. 2: The Facts

Chapter Two:

She was silent. Brennan sat folded over in an uncomfortable chair outside the emergency room. Angela and Hodgins whispered in another corner of the room. Sweets played with his hands, periodically glancing at Brennan.

A solemn, worried air hung over them as they all waited for Cam to swing open the pale gray doors and tell of Booth's fate. Until that time, the squint squad (and Sweets) sat anxious, surrounded by dark olive green.

Though silent, Brennan couldn't stop thinking, replaying the shooting again and again. Her mind focused on the blood even through her silent protests against herself. She'd seen so many deaths, so many disfigured corpses, but this- this was different. She couldn't understand why. Booth was just a partner… Right? But the only complete thought she could form was _Booth has to live._

The gray doors separating safety from struggle burst open. Usually composed Camille Saroyan walked out slowly, her head down. At the sight of her, her eyes red and puffy, Angela, Hodgins, Sweets and Zach jumped up. Brennan couldn't bring herself to stand. Angela cried out in tortured pain. Tenderly, Hodgins wrapped her close to him. Sweets shook his head vigorously, protesting the facts. Cam attempted to choke out the words they had all feared, "He's…He didn't…" She needn't finish.

All of Brennan's vast knowledge fled her mind in that moment. She didn't knew anything but the blood on her hands, the gunshot taking down her partner, the _bang_ in her ears instead of the melody that had filled her childhood.

She stood, finally, and walked out without a word to the others. Angela and Sweets moved to go after her, to hold her in the middle of the circle, to console her, but they each knew she wouldn't allow it.

Brennan went home. She threw her body into bed. Her mind stayed alive, crying for hours.

She dreamt only nightmares.


	3. 3: Keeping Socks

Chapter three:

She awoke later than usual, hoping irrationally that the previous evening's events were only a dream. A vivid nightmare, maybe, but a dream. But she remembered the blood on her hands. She remembered the blank stare in eyes as the life faded from them. She remembered the pleading touch of his hand on her wrist, begging for her to help him stay. Brennan remembered. The death of Seeley Booth was not a dream.

She moved sluggishly through her morning routines, spending much more time than was necessary completing each task. At first, she attempted to simply scrub away the puffy redness of her face, but achieving nothing, she took a shower to rinse away the remnants of the tears. She didn't remember the tears.

Drenched by the pouring water, she didn't realize that tears streamed down her face. She focused more on ignoring the pain in her chest, and the knot in her stomach. It had no logical cause; therefore, it was irrational and deserved no attention.

She wiped away the fog that covered the mirror. A minute passed before she recognized herself. Her blue eyes were sunken into purple-ish circles and now seemed gray. Her expression was sad. Just looking at herself made Brennan sad.

The lab was dark when Brennan entered. The forensic platform was abandoned. The FBI liaison team was scattered in various offices, silently staring past the walls and into another place. One where Booth was alive and they had done and said everything they should've.

Brennan flicked on the lights in her office, stopping as she saw what sat on her couch. A black, standard issue suit jacket, and a pair of striped socks. The socks. Pam Newnan had bought them for him just a day before taking his life. The socks. A year ago they had talked about Booth's socks. They were a part of them. The last part of him.

"Sweetie?" Angela shocked Brennan out of her trance.

"Angela, oh, I…"

"No, it' okay, Bren. I just… I just wanted someone to talk to," she started choking up, tears filling her eyes. "I can't… he can't be gone."

"He is Ange. We have to…we have to move on."

"I can't, sweetie, I just can't," she finally broke, running out of the room sobbing.

Feeling guilty about Angela, Brennan grabbed the socks off the couch, stroking them once before biting her lip and shoving them in her bottom drawer. She grabbed Jasper the Pig and placed him gently in the drawer as well.

It was irrational, she knew, but she couldn't get rid of them. Not yet.


End file.
